A Premonition of Black Sulfurous Smoke
by xDarkDesiresLightx
Summary: Sam has a premonition of the Boston Marathon, how he and Dean deal with the premonition and the Devils behind it. -my way of dealing with the tragedy that has befallen the Boston Marathon-


So here is a little plot bunny that has been nagging at me all day. This story goes out to all the people that have been affected by the horrible tragedy that has befallen the Boston Marathon.

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_He had laced up his running shoes, kissed his girlfriend goodbye with a whispered wish me luck on his breath as he stepped away and made his way to the starting line. This was it; after he crossed the finish line he would get down on one knee and propose to the love of his life for all of Boston to witness. _

_His feet hitting the pavement drumming out a steady rhythm, lulled him into a set pace as he listened to his breathing and the music that was keeping tempo with his beating heart. He was so close, just another hundred feet and then he would be the happiest man alive. He felt the rumbling before he saw the plume of sulfur blackened smoke. _

I shot up from bed gasping for breath, looking around trying to come to grips with my surroundings. There was Dean asleep, dead to the world, curled up with a pillow. The clock on the side table glowed five in the morning. Resigning to the fact that I wouldn't be able to sleep again anytime soon, I head into the bathroom to shower off the sheen of sweat that was sticking to every crevice of my tensed body. Turning on the shower nozzle I let the warm water wash away any last remnants of sleep from my system. _Why were the visions happening again? _

"Dean get up we have a case, we can get breakfast on the road." I said while packing up my measly belongings before his eyes were even fully open.

"uhjfgmmm" Dean made a non-intelligible sound from under his pillow.

"Seriously Dean get up or I will LEAVE YOU AND GET THE IMPALA PAINTED PINK!" my voice rising several octaves. Jumping out of bed, Dean swiped the sleep out of his heavy lidded green eyes and stalked towards the bathroom to take care of business. _Never doubt the power of threatening Dean's Baby._

Twenty minutes later and they were on the road, with day old coffee from the motel lobby and two stale kringles for each.

"So tell me again what was this vision about? " Dean asked around a mouthful of stale cinnamon-y goodness. Glancing over at his older brother he sighed and reiterated again, "I was in this guy's head and he was running some sort of marathon and then the air filled with smoke and it smelt like sulfur. I'm telling you Dean the demons are behind this and I'm going to not let this vision come true, all those innocent people taken over my Hell's minions.

"Alright well we have about six hours till we get to Boston, so why don't you get some shut eye and I'll wake you when we get closer."

Taking Dean's advice I lay my seat back and rest my head against the iced window, hoping that it will help with my headache.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sam wake up" Dean sing songed, rather off tune.

Begrudgingly opening my eyes, I am blinded by the light reflecting off the windshield. Stretching my sore neck I lean my seat back into its proper upright position.

"We're about two hours away, thought we might need some food if were gonna gank whatever demon is messing with your walnut." Dean says turning into a local gas station connected to a little diner.

"Deeean we don't have time for this man, we have to get to Boston as soon as possible" I lamented as Dean opened and shut his door, got out walking around his beloved Baby towards the 50's style diner.

"Sam I can eat and you can have a good half hour of research under your belt if you just let me get some pie and a cup of coffee. It won't take that long. Come on Sasquatch it won't do anybody any good if you run in their guns blazing with no idea on what were up against." Dean reasoned from the door of the diner.

Getting out with my computer bag hanging over my shoulder I jog the little ways to the door following Dean into "Little Birdies".

With Dean stuffing his face full of Blueberry Pie and chugging down three cups of coffee, I hardly had anytime to research properly but it at least meant that we would be back on the road and headed to Boston sooner.

Making their way into the busy streets lined with spectators and bars, Dean steered the Impala into a spot just outside of some local bar that was passing out flyers of the Boston Marathon going on minutes, getting out of Baby and making their way three blocks south they were confronted with a long line of spectators getting ready to watch as the marathon began and watched as the runners accomplished a lifelong dream. Making their way through the throng of cheerful family members and friends waiting out the long journey of loved ones to cross the finish line Dean and him were caught off guard when it was announced the racers had reached the halfway mark.

_I can't let this vision come true, I won't let this vision come true _those thoughts coursed through my mind as we slowly made our way to the finish line.

It was when the migraine started to get worse and my vision blurred in and out, that I realized something was seriously wrong.

"Sam? Sam? What's wrong?" Dean asked as he crouched low towards his ear trying to get him to say something, anything. The world went dark, and Dean was no longer by my side. When it was all over I realized that I was on the ground leaning heavily on Dean.

"What happened?" I asked shakily trying to find my bearings, adjusting slowly to the light.

"You must have had some type of vision or something because you were holding your head and then you just passed out and went limp like a rag doll." Dean says in a panicked voice masked by a soothing temperament.

"What how lo-"jostled form my train of thought I watched as a seemingly innocent building front was transformed into another Gateway in and out of Hell. Dean followed my gaze and was shocked; Sam had stumbled onto something neither of them were prepared for right now.

"Sammy we need to get out of her now!" Dean said with an authoritative voice, that of a commander, a solider. He sounded just like Dad. Pulling me up, quickly and efficiently Dean gripped my jacket as a resounding boom was heard in the distance. Seconds later the sound of an atomic bomb went off close near where he and Dean were standing. A plume of black sulfurous smoke filled his vision and the ground shook. Cries of the throng of people could be heard.

The Gates of Hell had opened.


End file.
